


if i fail, i'll fall apart

by cryoreal



Series: Drunk in Love [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Shenanigans, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 00:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12469352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryoreal/pseuds/cryoreal
Summary: Part 2 to "one track mind, one track heart." Set 3 months after those events, Jon and Sansa go to another Tyrell house party together and confront their feelings for one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The precursor to this took place in May, so this fic is set in early August. There will be a second chapter coming soon!

“Chug, chug, chug!” 

Why she agreed to a keg stand, Sansa wasn’t really sure. But she had had four shots of tequila already with Margaery and it did sound like a good idea. 

She had her eyes shut so she didn’t get dizzy, but all she could think of as she gulped down the beer was _I wore the wrong fucking shirt for this_. She had on a loose, flowy wine-colored top, perfect for an end-of-summer party, but not so perfect when she was upside down on a keg. 

She knew it was tangled around her shoulders, but she would be damned to all hells before she let Loras beat her at a keg stand, and besides, she wore a cute bra today, decency be damned. 

She got all the way to seventeen before she shook her head at Renly, who cut the tap so that she could hop off the stand, flattening her shirt down along the way before wiping her mouth. 

“Take that, bitch!” she crowed at Loras, whose mouth was hanging open in shock. He only made it to fourteen. 

She laughed loudly again before stumbling a little bit, letting Jon catch her as the beer went to her head. 

“Steady there,” he murmured in her ear, and she grinned at him broadly. They had been flirting, or nearly dating, or something for the entirety of summer break. They had regular movie nights, Sunday brunch dates every few weeks, and he did help her shop for new clothes the weekend before, but there was no kissing, no snuggling, no real dates yet.

Sansa thought she had enough beers that night to finally confront him. 

“Renly, you go next!” Margaery was shrieking, pushing him closer to the keg. “Jon will help you stay up!”

His arms were still around Sansa, but she half-whispered, “You should help him. He might seriously hurt himself if you don’t.” 

“At your command, princess.” He crossed over to the keg, helping Renly position himself in a handstand before Margaery turned the tap on, cheering wildly. 

Renly was much less practiced than Loras, only making it to eleven before he tapped out, nearly falling over as he got his feet back on the ground.

“That’s it, Sansa’s the winner. Shots!” Margaery was waving some expensive bottle of vodka, and Sansa shrugged with a grin. It wouldn’t do for the champion to deny some celebratory shots.

She passed Jon two before she took one herself, downing it quickly and barely feeling the burn anymore. She was so warm she wished she had done her hair up when Marg did, and settled for twisting it into a braid now.

Jon’s face was flushed as he held the two empty shot glasses in one hand, watching her braid her hair with a strange look on his face. 

“What?” 

“I love your hair!” he blurted out, and a small grin crept over her face. 

“Thank you, Jon.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, growing even redder. 

“Come outside with me,” she called over her shoulder, already heading for the door. 

She didn’t stop until she was hanging over the Tyrell’s porch balcony, letting the breeze cool her down. It was too hot inside, with the booze and the bodies and Margaery constantly shouting in her ear. Outside was better.

Jon came up beside her, draping his arms over the rail in much the same way she did, gazing out over their landscaped backyard. 

“I’ve really enjoyed this summer,” she began, fiddling with the end of her braid. She was too nervous to look at him, but she could feel his eyes tracking over her.

“I have too.”

“Can we keep our movie nights even though classes start next week?” 

“Every Thursday, no exceptions.” She finally turned to face him, seeing the softest shine in his eyes. 

“And Sunday brunch?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

The breeze fluttered his curls around his face, and before she knew it, Sansa was reaching out to brush one away from his cheek, her fingers lingering on his skin before she cupped his jaw.

“Jon…”

He took a step closer to her, closing the gap just a tiny bit. “Sansa.”

“Do you…” her breath hitched in her throat, and she stroked her thumb over his cheek to buy herself some time. “Do you feel this too?”

His eyes were burning into her, smoky and sure. “I’d be an idiot to miss it.”

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered softly, feeling his hand wrap around her hipbone.

He barely whispered out a “please” before he had taken another step forward, allowing her to thread her fingers through his hair before she leaned down a touch to press her lips against his, moving them softly but surely against his. 

He smelled woodsy still, smoky but fresh, and she pressed her chest against his needily as he deepened their kiss, both arms wrapped around her waist now. 

When they finally broke apart, both chests heaving against each other as they caught their breath, Sansa pressed her forehead against his. “What on earth have we been waiting for?”

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” he murmured, fingertips tracing tiny patterns underneath her shirt.

“I felt this way since our first brunch,” she whispered back.

“IHOP?”

“Ever since,” she laughed lightly, finally pulling away to look him in the eyes. 

“We’re idiots.”

“No arguing there.” 

They stayed on the porch until Margaery came outside, dropped four shots on the ground in excitement, and then forced them to drink three more each to celebrate “finally realizing you love each other, you absolute fools!”

It was ridiculously early in the morning before they stumbled upstairs to one of the many bedrooms. Margaery had insisted they stay the night after forcing so much alcohol into them, so when Sansa took his hand and led him up the staircase to one of the last rooms at the end of a hall, there were no complaints. 

Sansa had been in their house too many times to count, and so had picked a guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. There weren’t many other people staying over, and most chose to pass out on a couch downstairs, so they were relatively alone as they tripped over each other’s feet on the way into the bathroom, laughing in between kisses.

Once they were in the bathroom, they were faced with a decision.

“Shower or bath?” Sansa mused. 

“Can you even stand up for long enough to shower?” Jon teased, already stripping off his shirt.

She had felt the lean muscles underneath throughout the summer, when they snuggled on her couch for movie nights, but seeing them was another story. Jon was fit without being ripped, toned and lean without looking ridiculous. He was perfect.

“Probably not,” she admitted, reaching to the tub faucet to turn on the hot water. 

They sat on the edge next to each other while the tub filled up, setting the room in a swirl of steam. Sansa worked on unbraiding her hair to focus herself. It had been over an hour since she drank anything, and she thought she was relatively sober, but it was only relative. 

By the time the tub was full, her hair was unbound around her shoulders and Jon was only in his underwear, eyes trained on the floor. 

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his hands gripping his thighs nervously, and she reached over to cover his hand with hers.

“I am, if you are.”

In response, he reached over and started to play with the hem of her shirt, only pulling it off when she nodded at him.

“Hello old friend,” he muttered when her shirt was on the floor, his fingers tracing over the dove grey of her bra, the lace where it tickled over her skin, and she shivered. 

He seemed hesitant to do anything but flit the tips of his fingers over the skin over her bra, so she did him a favor and unhooked it, tossing it on top of her shirt. 

Jon’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he took her in, the breath leaving his mouth in a deep whoosh. 

It was only seconds later, it seemed, when they were both in the tub, facing each other from opposite corners. 

“This is nice,” Sansa breathed out, all too aware of what she couldn’t see beneath the bubbly surface of the bath. 

“Yeah.” 

She took the initiative then, pushing across the tub to join him on the other side, settling on her knees between his hips.

“I’d like to kiss you again,” he mumbled, his eyes wide again, hands firmly placed on his knees.

“What are you waiting for?” 

Their lips crashed together, and Jon groaned audibly against her lips when her bare chest came up against him, slippery from the water and the bubbles. 

When she couldn’t take the lack of contact anymore, Sansa shifted so that she was straddling him, his cock trapped between their stomachs as she rocked back and forth on his thighs.

“Sansa… beautiful girl, not like this,” he gasped against her lips, his head tipping backward as she rocked again.

“Why not?” she murmured, all too aware of how good he felt rubbing against her.

“We’ve waited so long, sweet girl. Wait just a little longer.” He was stroking her hair down her back, warm and soft, and she acquiesced, slipping off his lap to sit next to him. 

“Can we do… other things?” she murmured, her hand tickling his sides under the water.

He grinned then, slow as a cat. “Try to stop me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here we are! Thanks all for reading.

Her hands were sliding down to his hips underneath the water, and she swore nothing had ever felt so soft in her life.

His muscles were tense underneath her hands, but his skin felt like satin, accentuated by the warm water and the bubble bath. She smoothed her palm over the skin right above his hips, acutely aware of how he bucked slightly into her hands, and she grinned up at him, fire in her eyes. 

She made herself pause, her hand barely an inch away from his cock, and nudge his neck with her nose. “How drunk are you right now?”

“Um, on a scale of one to ten? Maybe a two,” he admitted breathlessly, his eyes trained on where her hand was tracing circles into his pelvis. 

“This is okay, then?” 

“Definitely okay,” he groaned as she circled the tip of his cock with one finger, feeling it jerk under her hand. 

“Good,” she purred as she took him in hand, stroking him gently from base to tip. 

Jon groaned, his head tilted back against the side of the tub, and she increased her pace a little, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest when he panted.

“Sweet, sweet girl, you’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his hands flexing under the water. 

“Do you need something to hold? I think I’ve got the perfect solution.” She swung her leg back over his again, but left plenty of room between them so as to keep rubbing his cock and instead jutting her chest toward him. “Here, try these.”

Both of his hands latched on to her chest with a loud groan, and he massaged her tits almost too roughly as she slid her palm up and down his length, almost languorously now. 

When she flicked her thumb over his head, he leaned forward and began to lap around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth needily. When Sansa arched her back into him, holding him to her chest with her free hand, he let go with a wet pop and turned his head to look up at her, eyes wide and almost unfocused.

“Please,” he whispered, bucking into her hand again, and Sansa gripped his cock more firmly, increasing her pace roughly. 

“I love this,” she moaned in his ear, cradling his head against her chest. “Your cock is perfect, Jon. Are you going to cum for me?”

He shivered all over before nodding wildly into her chest, pressing kisses to her collarbone with abandon. 

She barely heard him muttering “so good, so so good” before he gasped suddenly and jerked in her hand, his hips twitching underneath her as she felt her hand get even slippier with his cum under the water. She stroked him gently as he came back down, toying with his curls with her free hand while his uneven breaths fanned across her chest.

When he shifted underneath her she slid off his lap, going back to the other side of the tub so that she could admire him there, a little flushed and wild after his orgasm, his curls a half-wet mess around his face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, reaching a hand out to her. 

“I think I might be ready to get out.” She pulled the plug quietly but took his hand after, holding it in the space between them as the water slowly drained around them. 

She wrapped herself in a fluffy towel off a rack before passing one to Jon, admiring the way the water dripped down his neck and chest. It was unfair, really, how attractive he was, she mused as she squeezed some water out of her hair into the sink. 

Before she knew it, his hands were wrapped around her hips, and he clearly wasn’t using his towel anymore. “Would you like to come join me?” he rasped into her ear, and she shivered underneath the towel before dropping it on the floor and following Jon into the bedroom. 

The bed itself seemed too large, almost intimidating, until he took her hand and drew her down onto it, letting her pull the comforter up to cover herself almost shyly. 

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” Jon whispered, facing her on his side, and she tucked her chin into his chest.

“I am, too.”

They were quiet for moment until she felt his hand ghost along her side, warm and smooth, and settle on her hip again. 

“I’d like to return the favor.”

Sansa shifted underneath him, spreading her legs nervously to allow him to trace his way over to her, fingers barely flitting around her lips. 

He parted her folds easily, one finger tracing up to her clit, and she sighed and wriggled underneath him, burying her face in his chest happily as he began to stroke her gently, alternating between pressing a finger into her and circling around her clit softly, teasing her with just enough force to make it worthwhile.

It took a long time with his alternating strokes, but when he finally found the sweet spot on her clit, she clung to his arm while her hips snapped against his hand, riding out the first orgasm she’d had in months.

When her hips finally slowed to a stop, he shifted his weight so that he was laying over her, cupping her face in his hands. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered, stroking her cheekbone, and she nodded, entranced by how serious his gaze was. 

“I’d love to.” 

He pushed into her slowly, sweetly, watching for every sigh or twist of her hips or sign of discomfort and adjusting easily until he was fully seated inside her. Her ankles locked around his waist and Sansa laid her hands on his chest with a moan, loving the way she could feel every single inch of him.

“I’m so glad you felt the same way as me,” she gasped out as he began to move, the perfect amount of friction as he pulled almost all the way out to sheath himself back in. “I was beginning to think I was crazy for falling for you.”

“Not crazy at all, sweet girl. I was right there with you, the whole way.” They sighed together as she circled her hips on his, and she scratched her nails down his skin gently. 

“Jon…” she whispered, and then wiggled her hips. “This is nice, but do you think you could go a little… faster?”

He pulled his head away from her, and a hint of something gleamed in his eyes. “Anything for you.” 

He increased his pace slowly at first, to make sure she was used to it, but before long he was snapping his hips into hers fiercely, quickly, almost pounding her into the mattress while she panted underneath him. 

“Jon, Jon, Jon,” she mumbled, gripping his arms tightly. “Please, please…”

“Please what? You have to tell me what you want, or else I can’t give it to you.” His fingers twisted her nipple and she gasped out, nearly keening with the pleasure of it all. 

“Turn me over, please, please,” she finally managed to say, and the corners of his mouth quirked upward before he pulled out of her and helped her to flip over quickly, positioning her hips against his again.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She nodded into the pillow as she felt him slide into her again, long and smooth, and she shuddered underneath his warm hands. 

Jon began to thrust into her wildly, urgently, and it was all she could do to keep her face turned into the pillow while she moaned, her knees nearly slipping out from under her with the hard, fast pace he set. 

“Sansa, I don’t think I can last much longer,” he warned, and she could feel his hands squeezing her hips tightly, almost too tightly.

“Then don’t,” she bit out, and when his hips stuttered to a stop as he came, a long groan escaping his mouth, she took the initiative to keep rolling her hips against him, refusing to stop until he patted her on the back, shaking slightly from the effort.

When he finally rolled onto his side with a long moan, she followed him there, keeping his chest pressed against her back despite the fact that they were both covered in sweat. 

“That was…” he muttered against her neck, and Sansa felt the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Incredible,” she finished for him. “Don’t tell Marg yet or she’ll never let us live it down.” 

His laughter was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Keep an eye out for that next chapter if you like plotless smut!


End file.
